


a place to stand and love in for a day

by torigates



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-26 22:57:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/655294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/torigates/pseuds/torigates
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dylan got an email from his mom, <i>At least there aren’t any photos of you wearing hot wheels tshirts on the internet.</i> </p>
<p>Or the one where Dylan creeps Hoechlin on the internet, and things escalate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a place to stand and love in for a day

**Author's Note:**

> Having never seen an episode of _7th Heaven_ , I say some not nice things about the show. Sorry?

Dylan felt very strongly that when everything was said and done, the blame could be firmly be placed back to his mom. 

That was his story and he was sticking to it. 

 

\- 

 

It happened after the photos from his mom’s facebook got leaked. Dylan was kind of upset about it? No, it was weird. Because, it wasn’t like he cared all that much if there were pictures of him holding a puppy on the internet. The shirtless one, well--whatever. It wasn’t the pictures themselves that Dylan had a problem with. It was the fact that his mom’s facebook--his _mom’s_ \--got hacked. 

And he got the whole, you’re a celebrity now! Nothing is private on the internet! Blah, blah, blah, Dylan understood all those arguments. Like he said, it wasn’t the photos themselves that Dylan was upset about, there were plenty of other terrible pictures of him on the internet, after all (that one with the blue shirt in the _shower_ , oh god). 

He was just bummed that something that crummy happened to his mom. That was all it was. He didn’t want his job, or his lifestyle, or whatever to affect his _family_. 

Mom had assured him it was fine, and that it wasn’t his fault, and Dylan knew all that, it just still felt upset about it, and he was a bit cranky for a week afterwards. 

Three days later there was an email in his inbox.

>   
> **From:** Mom  
>  **To:** Me
> 
> **Subject:** Cheer up--it could be worse
> 
> At least there aren’t any photos of you wearing hot wheels tshirts on the internet. 
> 
> …Though I suppose I could track some down if you wanted to even things up a little? 
> 
> Love, Mom
> 
> **Attachment:** [hotwheels.jpg](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mb4wjssXYc1rd16e1o1_400.jpg)  
> 

Dylan clicked on the attached link and immediately fell off his chair laughing. His mom sure did know how to brighten his day.

He left the photo open in a tab for the rest of the day, and looked at it every time he needed cheering up. It worked like a charm. 

The thing was, Dylan didn’t spend a lot of time on the internet. Okay, no. That was clearly a lie. Dylan spent a shitload of time on the internet, but he didn’t spend a lot of time looking for pictures of his co-stars on the internet. 

Clearly that was a mistake. 

The obvious thing to do then, was forward the email to Posey and cc everyone else on the show, including Hoechlin himself. Dylan changed the subject line to, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA and included a brief note about how he didn’t think Derek would garner much respect as the alpha looking like that. 

His phone rang not two minutes later, and when Dylan swiped his thumb across the screen he was greeted with the sound of Posey’s hysterical laughter. 

“I KNOW,” Dylan shouted, throwing back his head and laughing again. He listened to Posey laugh on the other end of the line for several minutes. 

“Where did your mom even _find_ that?” Posey asked, when he had some semblance of control over his voice again. 

Dylan shrugged, still chuckling. “No clue,” he said. “On the internet, I guess?” 

“Oh, dude,” Posey said. “Dude.” 

“I know,” Dylan agreed. “This is going to be _so much fun_.” 

 

-

 

Hoechlin, bless his beautifully chiseled jaw and pure heart, was a good sport about it. Grossly so. 

He called Dylan a few hours after the email was sent, and he didn’t sound too mad about it. Dylan was kind of disappointed, actually with Hoechlin’s lack of response. 

He just chuckled, and said, “ _Some_ of us, have been in the industry since before our awkward years, Dyl. Unlike others who are still in their awkward years.” 

“Ba dum tsh,” Dylan shot back. “But seriously, Tyler, hot wheels? Hot wheels?” 

Dylan could almost hear the shrug over the phone. It was strangely adorable. “I was going to say they were cool at one point, but I don’t think that would fly with you.” 

“They were never neon orange tshirt cool, Tyler,” Dylan said. “I’m not sure _anything_ is ever neon orange tshirt cool.” 

Tyler laughed again, warm. Dylan felt his face heating up, and he was suddenly glad Tyler wasn’t around to see it. Tyler was the one who had something to be embarrassed of, after all. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Hoechlin said. “See you on set, O’Brien.” 

 

-

 

Dylan thought about that for a while. The thing was, he wanted more of a _reaction_. Sure, Posey had laughed until he cried, and Holland, and Crystal both sent him emails telling him not to be mean (Dylan knew that meant they laughed too, because girls are weird), but it wasn’t enough. 

It wasn’t like Dylan wanted to make Hoechlin feel bad, necessarily, but the thing was, he was kind of dick. Kind of. Always had been. Naturally, he had to do what he did best. 

He escalated it. 

It was easy enough to get the photo printed on glossy 8x10 photo paper. The next time they were all sitting around on set, Dylan grabbed the picture from where he’d hidden it in his trailer. 

Hoechlin looked up when he came back, and Dylan couldn’t stop the shiteating grin he knew he was currently sporting. 

“What?” Hoechlin asked, his tone weary. 

“Buddy,” Dylan said. “I’m going to need your autograph on this gem.” He handed the photo over. 

Tyler laughed and rolled his eyes, but Dylan would swear the tips of his ears actually turned a little bit pink. Dylan did his best not to think about how adorable that was. 

“Very funny, Dylan,” he said. “You know, if you had been acting since before you were pubescent, there’d be a ton of embarrassing photos of you on the internet as well.” 

Dylan personally thought most of the photographs that existed of him were embarrassing, especially the ones on the internet, but he refrained from commenting on the matter. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to start chiming up about his Teen Vogue shoot, or whatever. 

“There are _more_?” Dylan asks, instead of voicing any of his concerns. 

Tyler must pick up on some kind of evil glint in his eyes, because all he said was, “You’re such an asshole, O’Brien.” 

It took another ten minutes of Dylan whining before Tyler would actually sign the damn photo. Once he did, Dylan ran off to hang it up in his trailer. 

 

\- 

 

That should have been the end of it. Dylan had his laugh, he got a few good jabs in, it was done. 

Except... he kept thinking about how Tyler said there were a ton of embarrassing photos of him on the internet. Tyler was currently the most beautiful person he had ever seen both in real life and in the movies (and he had his fair share of experience with both), and Dylan was man enough to admit that it could be intimidating at times. Sure, it helped that he was _also_ one of the most genuinely nice people Dylan knew, if not the actual nicest. 

Dylan wasn’t the nicest. He probably wasn’t even in the top ten out of all the people he knew. The obvious course of action was to go online and find some more even more horrifying pictures. It would be a challenge, but it was a challenge Dylan was more than ready for. 

Except--okay. Obviously it wasn’t going to be enough to type “Tyler Hoechlin” into a google search, because Dylan tried that and he ended up with like four pages of gorgeous photos of Tyler, including one where he was wearing [a white shirt and some sort of goggles around his neck](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8hrykLHn31rd16e1o1_500.jpg), and he lost like five minutes just looking at it trying to figure out if Tyler was supposed to be some kind of sexy mechanic? Or pilot? It was very confusing. 

Clearly googling Tyler wasn’t going to cut it. Adding “Tyler Hoechlin twink” to the mix brought up a lot of stills from the show, strangely enough. Dylan definitely did not want to think of why many of those were stills of Derek and Stiles. Nope, not thinking about it. 

Changing tactics, Dylan did a straight search on Tyler’s name, scrolling past his IMDb, Wikipedia entry (which, Tyler’s was only _slightly_ less depressing than Dylan’s. Anytime he even thought about getting an inflated head from his limited fame, all he had to do was look at his wikipedia page to remind him how much of a nobody he still was in the grand scheme of things. It was actually kind of nice), and twitter, Dylan surveyed the other options. 

He studiously refused to click on any tumblr links, no matter how promising they claimed to be. Dylan knew enough about what goes on on the internet to know that there are some things that absolutely could not be unseen, and he got enough Sterek during the press tours. Not--not that he’d be inherently opposed to Sterek happening, mind you, it was just... sometimes he didn’t want to take his work home with him. Sometimes all he wanted to do was internet creep his coworkers in peace. That didn’t seem too much to ask.

Instead, he clicked on a few fan run sites that remind him of the type of thing he was lurking back when he was just a regular teenager making Youtube videos and surfing stumbleupon. Dylan took a moment to recognize how surreal his life had really become. 

Then he got passed it and went to fucking town on the pics of Hoechlin. 

And like--dude was _not_ kidding when he said there was a ton of embarrassing photos. There’s one where he’s [crouched next to a brick wall wearing a leather jacket](http://25.media.tumblr.com/cf5c72b6978a3ffda5603dc0e8e06611/tumblr_mh7xf76MKn1s4unu9o1_500.jpg), except he had to be only like maybe fifteen or sixteen years old, and it was a real problem because Dylan was sure he was never going to be able to look at Derek with a straight face ever again. 

Once he stopped laughing, Dylan pulled out his phone to text Hoechlin. **dude you’ve done a lot of photoshoots[on skateboards](http://25.media.tumblr.com/592fcbfcb8f4c11bae3aa5a4eb102a40/tumblr_mezxojlh531qjj54so1_500.png)**

His phone was silent for five long minutes before it chirped with a response. **what are you doing**

Dylan laughed again. 

**also I’m pretty sure there was only one** came through before he could formulate a witty enough response. 

**only pretty sure?** he shot back. 

**there’s a lot I blocked out** , Hoechlin replied. 

Dylan couldn’t stop laughing. And apparently he couldn’t stop internet stalking Hoechlin either. 

 

-

 

Dylan started posting pictures of young Tyler around the set with the words, _I’M THE ALPHA_ scrolled across them. 

Personally, he found it hilarious. 

Like six different people told him he needed to stop picking on Hoechlin. People kept giving him weird looks whenever they caught him darting around set and taping pictures to the walls. Posey was the only one who really appreciated what Dylan was doing because Posey was the best. Dylan was sure there were scientific studies proving that to be true. 

“I’m not picking on him!” Dylan sputtered when Jeff brought it up. 

“You’re not?” Jeff asked, arms crossed over his chest. 

Dylan felt a tiny bit sheepish. As if he had pulled into the principal’s office to be given a scolding. Granted, that never actually worked when Dylan was in school, and as much as he loved Jeff, he couldn’t really pull of the eyebrows of doom. 

“Not really?” Dylan tried. 

“So you’re _not_ trying to humiliate Tyler, is that what you’re telling me?” Jeff asked. 

Dylan huffed. “Well maybe a little! I mean, he doesn’t mind, he laughs about it like the rest of us! And besides, it’s _Tyler_ , he knows what he looks like, I highly doubt this is bothering him.” 

“Are you sure about that?” Jeff asked. 

Dylan was sure. He was mostly entirely sure. 

 

\- 

 

It wasn’t until Holland caught him watching an episode of _7th Heaven_ that Dylan acknowledged that he maybe--potentially--had a problem. A small one. 

“Are you for real right now?” she asked, when she sat down next to him on his couch and realised what exactly he was watching. 

“It’s really, really terrible,” Dylan said. “I have no excuse. It’s not even really funny any more? I mean, it is? Because Hoechlin? And his face? Oh god, stop me please, this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

Holland patted his knee. 

“You need to get this crush under control,” she said. “You’re starting to look pathetic, and I think Tyler’s feelings are hurt. And Tyler is sunshine, Dylan. You made sunshine said.” 

“I... don’t have a crush on Tyler,” he said, trying to make sense of everything she had just said. 

Which was ridiculous. Dylan didn’t have a crush on Tyler. And there was no way he was actually hurting Hoechlin’s feelings. Dylan was pretty sure Tyler had one setting and it was happy. He knew Dylan was just messing with him, right? Because sure, it had started out as a hilarious joke to make Dylan feel better (and who was he kidding, it was still mostly hilarious), but he didn’t mean anything malicious by it. 

More importantly, he did not have a crush on Tyler. That was ludacris. Crazy. Insane. 

“Oh, that’s adorable,” Holland told him. “You really believe that.” She reached out and ruffled his hair. Normally Dylan wouldn’t have a problem with that, but ever since they let Stiles grow out the buzzcut, Dylan was actually spending more time in hair and makeup, and now they would yell at him. 

“Of course I do,” he said. “Because it’s the truth, I don’t have a crush on him.” 

Holland just stared at him. 

“I don’t!” 

“I can’t believe this,” she said. “Are you telling me all this time you’ve been pulling Tyler’s pigtails, and you didn’t even know you were doing it? Dylan, you’re ridiculous.” 

“Your face is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. 

She shot him a look, but didn’t comment. “You’ve been literally scouring the internet for pictures of them, and then hanging them up all over set. You have an autographed photo of him here in your trailer. You’re watching _7th Heaven_ for fuck’s sake. I didn’t think you’d need this explained to you.” 

Dylan stared at her for a long moment, then promptly started to freak the fuck out.

 

\- 

 

What Dylan needed to take some time and figure out what was going on and how he felt, and really examine his feelings. 

Obviously, then, he went home and looked at more pictures of Hoechlin on the internet. 

His browser history was an absolute disgrace, and considering the kind of porn he usually liked to watch, that was really saying something. 

It was just--working with Tyler and the rest of his co-stars had obviously desensitized him to blinding hotness. It was just like, oh Tyler’s here? Ho-hum, just another day on the _Teen Wolf_ set. It wasn’t that Dylan forgot how gorgeous he was per se, it was more along the lines of staring into the sun for too long and not being able to see anything clearly. 

When he started to look at all the pictures of Tyler when he was younger, it became apparently obvious again just how good looking he really was. Some people grow into their hands, feet, chins. Tyler grew into his eyebrows. Well, he grew into his _everything_ really, and the more photos Dylan looked at, the more he realised it was actually possible to see the moment Tyler became beautiful, and it really wasn’t fair. 

There was one photo: it was in black and white, and Tyler was [kneeling against a wall](http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m6nrif97TI1rxermyo1_r1_500.png), his back arched, and pants slung criminally low, his hipbone in sharp contrast, as are his cheeks, and his chest is slicked and bare, the pants so tight Dylan could see a faint outline of his dick, and he felt a sharp tug of want low in his gut. He wanted to touch. 

His own dick was suddenly hard in his jeans, and he palmed his crotch, wondering how wrong it would be to jerk off to a picture of Tyler. 

It was at that point Dylan released he was getting off on glamour shots of his friend, and he was forced to realise that maybe Holland had a point when she said he had a crush. 

 

-

 

It was two days later when Dylan saw Tyler again, and it was awkward. There wasn’t any easy way to say, _sorry I’ve been teasing you about your former twink status and also I almost jerked off to a picture of your naked chest and also I maybe would like to mutually jerk off in your presence or touch you or kiss you or something_. 

Instead of saying any of that (thank god), Dylan went with a tried and tested method and decided to hide out in his trailer instead. It seemed safer than anything that he could reasonably expect to come out of his mouth in Tyler’s presence. 

Unfortunately, his smart thinking ended there because he was watching another episode of _7th Heaven_ , and even worse he was watching it when Tyler came in? Which was a total accident on Dylan’s part, but he failed to take Holland into consideration, which to be fair, was always a mistake. 

“Seriously?” Hoechlin asked. “Are you seriously watching this right now? What the fuck, Dylan?” 

Dylan jerked upright, and flailed a little bit reaching for the remote to pause. It stopped right on a cap of tiny Tyler’s face with his overgrown eyebrows, which honestly, Dylan did not see that going well for anyone, so he also turned off the television completely. 

“In my defense, I’ve only watched the one episode.” 

Tyler stared at him. 

“Okay, two,” he admitted. “Okay, three. Ten. Ten, honestly, it was ten.” 

There was a weird look on Hoechlin’s face, that Dylan couldn’t quite decipher. It looked half way to mad (not even, maybe a quarter of the way there), which was actually a pretty terrifying expression to see on Tyler’s face when they weren’t acting. 

“Sorry?” he tried, not sure where to take things from here. 

“No, honestly,” Tyler said, and there was a bite in his tone. “What the fuck, Dylan. I get that you’re making fun of me, but sitting here, watching this stupid fucking show on your own? Are you writing down punchlines to use at my expense?” 

Dylan bit back a couple comments about how Tyler once told Ashlee Simpson he didn’t want to have sex with her, and his burning desire to know whether it’s weird living with Haylie when she once played his baby mama because he was socially aware enough to know that now was not the time. He was also socially aware enough to know that now was not the time to ask if Tyler could introduce him to Hilary Duff, but he made a mental note because that was something he seriously needed to do at some point. 

“No?” he said. “No, Tyler, it’s not--I wasn’t.” He trailed off helplessly. 

“You weren’t what? Making fun of me? Because all those pictures of me looking like an idiot that you posted all over the set sure felt like you were. And now you’re watching--whatever. I’m going to go.” 

“No!” Dylan said. He jumped up, and grabbed Tyler’s arm, preventing him from storming out. He knew Tyler could shake him off if he really wanted to, and the fact that he wasn’t was a good sign. A not terrible sign, at the very least. 

“No,” he said again. “I mean, yes, maybe a little, at first? You just looked so silly!” 

Tyler scowled. 

“No, dude, it’s like. Look at you, okay? You’re--” Dylan gestured at all of Tyler. “You’re you,” he settled on. It seemed the least humiliating option. “And, I don’t know, I just got carried away.” 

Tyler snorted.

“Obviously,” Dylan conceded. “But I wasn’t making fun of you, not really. I’m sorry.” 

Tyler crossed his arms over his chest, not looking entirely convinced. “What were you doing then.” 

Dylan bit down the words, _discovering a intense lust for your bod_ , and tried to think of something intelligent to say. “I guess I just got carried away with the fact that you’re not perfect, and ran with it. It’s hard,” Dylan growled, frustrated, but pushed on. “It’s hard sometimes being around you--and everyone. Everyone looks like they walked off the cover of GQ, and I swear to god, Tyler, one day you’re _actually_ going to be on the cover of GQ and I’m just.” He made a wildly erratic hand motion, which hopefully conveyed how much he was not those things. 

“You’re a fucking moron,” Tyler told him. “Stop watching _7th Heaven_.” 

“Okay,” Dylan said. “Will do. I mean, it’s pretty terrible anyway, I was just in it for your furry eyebrows.” 

Hoechlin raised the eyebrows in question. 

Dylan shrugged. “I dunno, man. It’s like... you’re the most laid back, open, accepting person I know, and to see you spouting the opposite of that... it was weird. It kind of sucked me into a vortex of horrified fascination.” 

Tyler considered him for a moment, before stepping around him and settling down on Dylan’s couch. Dylan took that as a good sign and went to sit down next to him. 

Hoechlin was deep in thought for a long moment, and Dylan was afraid to say anything, or do anything, or even really breathe. He just waited. 

“Well,” Tyler said. “First of all, it was a job. Not all of us got offered shows only having Youtube experience,” he said, and Dylan cringed. “But... I guess it was also a really different point in my life, and I was a lot younger and I didn’t necessarily know how to translate my belief into real world application.” He shrugged. “I don’t regret it necessarily because of a lot reasons, but it definitely doesn’t have a cool factor.” 

Dylan stomped down the urge to point out that they worked on an MTV show about werewolves of all things, because after Posey, Hoechlin was like _the most_ enthusiastic about it. He was enthusiastic about most things, though. Dylan was almost entirely sure that was just his default setting.

“I’m sorry,” Dylan settled on. “I wasn’t trying to be mean. And for what it’s worth, I think you have plenty of cool factor now.” That much, at least, was true. He grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. 

Tyler rolled his eyes, but he was smiling again, which was a good sign. He slapped his palms on his knees and stood, walking towards the door. “You know, Holland told me to come talk to you.” 

Dylan froze. When he turned to look at Tyler, he was laughing. 

“She said you were flirting with me,” he said, and he was still chuckling. 

Dylan choked a little, and started to plan his revenge. It was impossible to get a read on what Tyler was actually feeling from his smiling face. “She may not have been entirely wrong,” Dylan finally decided on, when his voice started working again. 

Hoechlin turned to face him, his eyes wide. “Oh,” he said.

Dylan shrugged. “Sorry?” he asked. “In my own defense, I didn’t really understand what I was doing until two days ago, but it’s not a problem, I mean, unless you think it is?” He held his breath. 

Tyler didn’t say anything. 

“Shit,” Dylan muttered. “I’m sor--” he started again, but his words were abruptly cut off, by Tyler taking two steps towards him and kissing him soundly on the lips. 

Dylan was stunned into stillness for a brief second before his hands came up to clutch at the back of Tyler’s head. Tyler’s arms were wrapped around Dylan’s torso, and he felt as if he had forgotten how to breathe. Had forgotten everything except for the feeling of their mouths pressed together. He licked Tyler’s bottom lip, and sucked it into his mouth. Hoechlin reciprocated by pressing his palms on the small of Dylan’s back, and bringing their bodies into an even closer proximity. 

They stumbled in the direction of Dylan’s couch. When the backs of his knees bumped into the edge of the cushions, they tumbled over in a pile of limbs, their bodies never breaking contact. Tyler panted a little against his lips, and Dylan took the opportunity to lick his way into Tyler’s open mouth. The kiss was hot and wet and wonderful. He let his hands roam down and over Tyler’s shoulders and back, before bringing them around to press against his belly. He slipped his hands underneath Tyler’s shirt, enjoying the feel of his chest hair. 

“No shirtless scenes for a while?” he asked, pulling back a little. 

“No, thankfully,” Tyler said. 

Dylan chuckled, well aware of Tyler’s feelings regarding having to shave his chest (or his face for that matter). He pressed his hands more firmly upon Tyler’s warm bare skin, and took a moment to enjoy the way Tyler leaned into his touch, before bringing their mouths back together in another searing kiss. 

They sat like that together on Dylan’s couch for what felt like a long time. Eventually Tyler’s phone beeped in his pocket, and he pulled back to check it. He groaned. 

“What’s wrong?” Dylan asked. 

“It’s my twenty minute warning,” he said, sounding completely petulant. It was adorable. “I gotta go get my pants on. 

Dylan’s gaze flickered down to Tyler’s crotch, almost without his permission. Tyler shoved him. “Unless you’re volunteering, you can stop that right now.” 

Dylan licked his lips. “I’d really like more than twenty minutes,” he said.

Tyler shrugged, and started to stand. Dylan didn’t let him get very far. 

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” he said with a shrug and a smirk, pushing Tyler down onto the couch. 

 

\- 

 

Two months later, Dylan sent his mom a picture of Tyler napping on the couch back in Dylan’s apartment. 

_Much better than the hot wheels_ , she agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Well. This is DEFINITELY BY FAR the most ridiculous and self indulgent thing I have ever written in my entire life? It started with me getting the idea of Dylan and Posey hassling Hoechlin for all the twink photos of him that exist, and somehow resulted in hours of me googling Tyler Hoechlin (OH THE HUMANITY!) and looking up synopses of 7th Heaven on wikipedia and a very questionable decision that led to me watching like an hour of 7th Heaven clips with Hoechlin in them--which, I just want to say is SURREAL hearing his man voice coming out of that tiny body, but I digress. 
> 
> I wanted to include Dylan discovering Tyler in [Disney Sing Along Songs - Happy Haunting Party at Disneyland](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwhtG2SwWKs) but unfortunately it did not work with the flow of the fic. HOECHLIN PAST YOU MADE SOME QUESTIONABLE DECISIONS. That's all I'm saying, buddy. 
> 
> If you read this, thank you! And it obviously goes without saying, but none of this is real, no disrespect meant, etc. etc.


End file.
